


the hardest of hearts

by strangenessandcharm



Series: Hate the sin love the sinner [Leverage AU] [4]
Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Thieves, Angst, Arson, Basically it's Hosoo's Leverage au backstory, Dubious Morality, First Meetings, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-01 16:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10194437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangenessandcharm/pseuds/strangenessandcharm
Summary: Before they were part of team, before they found a family, before they learned to trust there were two lost boys.Two lost boys who found each other under unlikely circumstances and despite themselves ended up tangled up together. They're not kind or soft, they're twisted and messy and have been broken more times than they can count.But it's theirs, and that might be enough.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I had plans to write something else for Myungsoo's birthday but life got in the way so instead have this. I wrote the first half of this the end of last year before deciding I was going to wait till I finished Leverage!au to post the Hosoo backstory because of spoilers (fun fact this was originally my beta's bday story). Since it's the only Myungsoo-centric not published thing I have though I finished what would be the first chapter and here we are. 
> 
> Eventually I'll continue this with their whole backstory up until they meet Sunggyu's team but for now this is a little stand-alone about the very start of their relationship.
> 
> Also it feels worth pointing out BAPs new Single Album has basically be on repeat as I wrote the second half of this and it really set the tone.
> 
> This is slightly darker in tone than it's a long way back but I don't think it quite crosses over into M rating. Yet.

The first time that Howon meets the boy who will become his whole world he thinks the kid is pathetic.

He’s never in his adult life, before or since, misjudged someone so spectacularly. Neither has he ever been so glad to be wrong. 

Even to this day he’s not sure why he reacted to Myungsoo the way he did, why he didn’t shoot him through the head and throw his body into the river as he would have for anyone else sent after him.  

He’s speculated for years, whether it was the honestly in Myungsoo’s voice, how hopeful and ultimately good he seemed. Maybe how resigned he was to his death. Maybe it was simply Howon’s own apathy towards whether he lived or died. He can’t put his finger on any one reason; it’s probably a combination of many.

He likes to think though, that some part of him just knew that Myungsoo was going to become the most important person on the planet to him. 

 

☁︎

 

Howon is at an impasse in his life.

 He’s just parted ways with Hyuna, his family hasn’t wanted anything to do with him since his father and he’s reluctant to properly reconnect with Sungjong for fear of painting his oldest (and only) friend with the same tar he’s been drowning in since he was discharged from the military.

He spends most of his evenings doing retrievals, and sometimes hits, for the unsavoury contacts he’s met through Hyuna.

He spends his days drinking more than he probably should (another reason to see Sungjong less than he wants) wrapped up in his thoughts. They’re not pretty.  

The monotony has set in, his life is aimless and with hindsight he’ll realise he wasn’t long away from something drastic. 

That all changes one Tuesday morning, before dawn, earlier in the morning than any honest person would ever be awake out of choice.

Howon of course is not an honest person; hasn’t been for a long time.  

Neither is whoever is attempting to break into his apartment at four in the morning.

Howon isn’t a thief himself but he’s known enough of them, has known Sungjong as long as he remembers, so whilst someone else might have written the banging in the vents above him off as a settling building or maybe some sort of animal up there, Howon knows better.  

He grabs the gun that he keeps in the microwave he never uses and the knife that’s not used for cooking out of the knife block. He follows the noises to his bedroom. 

He sits patiently on his bed, watching the opening of the vent. It takes barely thirty seconds before there’s this kid dropping out of the vents gracefully, but not exactly silently (he doesn’t even check to see if the room is empty before he drops down - an amateur mistake).

Howon doesn’t wait until he’s hit the ground before springing into action and lashes out with the knife. He makes contact, cutting the side of his face. 

He could have done much more damage; he could have killed him right there on the spot but for some reason he doesn’t. He’s bored and desperate for anything to break the monotony. He wants to know why this kid is breaking into  _his_ apartment of all places.

 The kid stares at him with wide eyes backing away slowly and clutching his cheek.

 “Well,” Howon says with what Hyuna had always called his ‘hunting smirk’, “What do we have here?”

 The kid steps back as Howon steps forward, eyes flickering up to the vent trying to determine if he can use it to escape. He can’t - Howon has made sure to put himself between the boy and any exits as he backs him into the corner. 

 Howon takes the opportunity to size him up quickly, a skill he prides himself on more than his ability to throw a punch or shoot a gun.

 He looks young, scared and innocent, though Howon knows he can’t be. Anyone who is breaking into someone’s home before dawn can’t be any kind of innocent. 

 “ _What_  are you doing?” he eventually asks, when his silence has made the kid start to squirm.

 The kid looks up at him with determination, “Robbing you.” He looks very much like he’d like to tack a sarcastic  _obviously_  on the end but doesn’t.

 “Do you know who you’re robbing, kid?” Howon asks with a cocky smile. 

 His apartment is in a nondescript building, one of the millions of buildings that line Seoul’s skyline. It’s not a rich building but it’s not poor, it’s decidedly average and no one who lives here owns anything worth stealing (Howon had made sure of that before moving in). 

 There is no way he’s accidentally picked Howon’s apartment to break into - but if he’d known who Hoya was he’d surely have been more careful with his entrance. 

 He licks his lips, and nods, “You’re Hoya.” Then, more defiantly, “And my name is Myungsoo, not kid.”

 “Myungsoo,” Howon says thoughtfully. He’s heard that name somewhere before, heard it through the grapevine. “Kim Myungsoo?” he asks.

 The kid (Myungsoo) looks pleased at having been identified, unable to hide it for a brief flash before he goes for a disinterested shrug, “Maybe,” as if his face hadn’t given absolutely everything away. 

 “Kim Myungsoo, what on earth are you doing trying to break into  _my_  apartment? What on earth could I have done to catch your attention,” Howon asks, balancing the knife between his fingers, looking at it before looking pointedly at the kid.

 “Bang sent me,” Myungsoo says. 

 Howon drops his playful facade immediately, gripping the knife by its handle, and stalking towards Myungsoo.

 He can clearly sense the change in Howon’s demeanour, the way his shoulders tense gives him away. 

 “Now what could I possibly have that Bang Dongil wants,” Howon asks quietly. He hopes he scares the pants off this guy, hopes he suffers at the thought of what Howon is going to do to him (kill him for sure, though not torture him - that was always more of Hyuna’s thing than his). 

 “He said you had something that belonged to him,” Myungsoo says looking Howon straight in the eye. He looks away quickly, but he managed longer than most, so Howon is slightly impressed.

 Not impressed enough to save his life though, “It doesn’t belong to him,” Howon says, sticking the knife in his pocket so that he can pull the gun out, “He can think of it like payment, for me not kicking his ass back down to hell.”

 “I’ll be sure to tell him that,” Myungsoo says dryly. He can’t possibly think he’s getting out of this alive.  

 Howon points the gun at the kid, fully intending to shoot him in order to send a message to the bastard. Except then Myungsoo looks back at him, defiant but resigned. As if he expects to die here and has made his peace with it. Something about that look resonates with Howon.

 That look is what he sees whenever he looks in the mirror, what he imagines he looks like whenever he’s about to go off on a job.

 Howon cocks the gun, “Are you ready to die today Kim Myungsoo?” he asks.

 Myungsoo swallows, but doesn’t falter. Doesn’t beg for his life; looks almost relieved, “Yes.” 

 Howon pulls the trigger. Deliberately shooting over the kids shoulder. 

 Howon won’t deny he’s curious about Myungsoo, he wants to know why he came here so ready to die tonight. He doesn’t ask because curiosity never leads to anything good - he learned that the hard way. There are lots of kids that don’t want to be in this kind of life. Most of them don’t want to be saved either.

 “Get out of here Kim Myungsoo,” Howon says, gesturing towards his bedroom door with the gun, “Don’t let me catch you again.”

 He half expects Myungsoo to scurry to the door, looking over his shoulder as if waiting to be shot in the back. He doesn’t. He walks out the room, not looking over his shoulder once, not even when he can very clearly hear Howon’s footsteps following behind him. 

 He doesn’t look back until he’s out the door, then he turns and looks at Howon with something he can’t identity before he’s gone.

 Howon bolts his door and double checks his security measures before resolving to put some sort of deterrent measure in the vents like he should have months ago (the only reason he hasn’t is that he’s always hoping in the back of his mind for Sungjong to drop by unannounced).

 Kim Myungsoo is as interesting as his reputation. Something Howon hasn’t found true of many people.

 It’s almost a shame he’ll never see the kid again.

 

 

 ☁︎

 

 

Howon does see Myungsoo again only a few days later.

It’s not an accident, there’s no bumping into each other on the street or taking the same job (Howon isn’t often called in for the same job as a thief but it’s happened once or twice).

 No, the moron breaks into Howon’s apartment again. 

 Except this time as he drops down out of the vent he’s clutching a bleeding hand to his chest, clearly having missed the barbed wire Hoya had lined the shaft with.

 “Kim Myungsoo,” Howon sighs from where he’s sitting cross legged on his bed, a couple of guns laid out on the bed around him for effect (only the one in his lap is loaded but Myungsoo has no reason to know that), “Your reputation led me to believe you were smarter than this.”

 Myungsoo looks at Howon, as defiant as last time but more resigned, “I don’t have a choice.” Myungsoo says, “So if you’re going to shoot me, please actually hit me this time.”

 It’s cute, Howon thinks, that Myungsoo apparently knows his reputation but thinks he missed by accident. 

 “Actually shoot you? Where? Through the ankle? Maybe your shoulder?” Hoya asks consideringly, picking up one of the unloaded guns and playing with it.

 “Please kill me, or let me take what he needs.” Myungsoo repeats: he’s so clearly defeated and yet not cowed. It’s a strange combination. 

 “Why would I let you take anything from me?” Howon asks curiously. He wonders if this is actually a grift. If Myungsoo is trying to get Howon to feel sorry enough that he passes what he’s after off to him without Myungsoo having to find it.

 If it is he’s a better grifter than thief. 

 “Because he’s going to keep sending me back until I get it, or until I’m killed.” Myungsoo says matter-of-factly. 

 Howon turns the pieces over in his head until they lock into place. This kid isn’t one of Dongil’s men. He’s someone who crossed him.

 “He told you I wouldn’t be here last time, didn’t he?” Howon says as gently as he can manage. It clearly disarms Myungsoo more than any of the posturing or threatening Howon has thrown his way previously.

 “Yes,” Myungsoo eventually admits. 

 “He doesn’t want you to succeed,” Howon says. Myungsoo’s face tells him he’s not telling the kid anything that he doesn’t already know.

 “He wants you to kill me, but if I succeed then he’s got what he wants from you, either way he wins.” Myungsoo says, blood slowly dripping down his wrist. It’s falling into the carpet but Howon’s carpets have seen much worse than a bleeding hand.

 “And he probably kills you anyway,” Howon finishes. He feels sympathy for this kid. His instincts are telling him that Myungsoo is telling the truth. Perhaps he’s using the truth to get Howon to feel sorry for him but he’s not lying.

 “Probably, but if I don’t do it he’ll definitely kill me. Or do something worse.” Myungsoo says, dead eyes telling Howon exactly what he’s implying. Howon knows he’s got it right, but the thought still makes his stomach roll, his hands clench instinctively. Out of all the nasty people he’s dealt with in his life Bang Dongil is up there with Howon’s father.

 “Do you want to die?” Howon asks bluntly. 

 Despite everything that Howon has thrown at him, this is what truly shakes Myungsoo for the first time that Howon has seen. His hands start shaking, droplets of blood flying off with the motion. 

 “I don’t  _want_  to die,” He answers Howon eventually, “But I probably deserve to.”

 Howon has never related to something that someone else has told him more in his life. 

 “Why?” Howon asks, unable to stop himself. He doesn’t expect an answer and he doesn’t get one, Myungsoo just shrugs uncomfortably.

 Howon makes a decision. “Come here,” he says, beckoning Myungsoo towards him.

 The kid comes, hesitantly but he still comes (Howon can’t blame him on his hesitance since he has half his gun collection around himself in order to make himself seem scarier). 

 He stops just before Howon’s leg. 

 Howon sweeps a gun out of the way and gestures for Myungsoo to sit down. He does.

 “Give me your hand,” Howon demands, keeping his loaded gun close just in case. He’s almost certain this kid could not get the drop on him, but he’s learned in this business appearances can be deceiving and it’s better safe than sorry. Massive clichés but clichés that have saved his life more times that he wants to count.

 Myungsoo looks downright terrified but he does as instructed. Howon cradles his bleeding hand in his own as he digs around his nightstand and pulls out his first aid kit.

 “You’re not going to poison me, are you?” Myungsoo asks as Howon pulls out the disinfectant (he hadn’t exactly checked the barbed wire for rust or anything since he hadn’t even conceived the possibility he’d be patching up anyone attempting to break into his space) 

 “It’s antibacterial liquid,” Howon says dryly, putting some on a cotton swab and pressing it into the wound.

 Myungsoo hisses, scrunching up his face in the closest thing Howon has ever seen a human’s face come to a kitten, “It sure as fuck feels like poison.”

 Howon tries to his hide his grin. This kid is just so fucking cute; he’s not used to becoming attached to someone so quickly (not attached exactly, just not wanting to murder). Maybe it’s because he’s unlike anyone Howon has ever come across in this business. Maybe if he’s honest it’s because Myungsoo reminds him of Sungjong in a lot of ways).

 “That’s because it’s killing the bacteria in the wound,” Howon says, holding the hand still even as Myungsoo tries to pull it away reflectively, “Have you never put disinfectant on a wound before?”

 Howon finds that hard to believe, as a kid he’d scrapped his knees bloody as soon as he’d started walking.  

 Myungsoo shrugs, “Not that I remember.”

 Howon doesn’t comment any further because he doesn’t care. Instead he dabs at Myungsoo’s hand a few more times, before pulling out the gauze.

 “What did you do to draw Dongil’s ire?” Howon asks as he starts to wrap the wound. Before he really commits to the plan he’s pulling he needs to know what Myungsoo has done. Probably tried to rob the wrong person but for all that Howon knows he’d murdered his daughter or something.

 “Took the wrong job, tried to steal something that he had a ‘vested interest’ in.” Myungsoo says, putting on the funniest imitation that Howon has ever heard. It’s harder not to laugh this time.

 Howon doesn’t say anything until he’s finished with his work, dropping Myungsoo’s hand and watching on as the kid examines it thoughtfully. Awed is the best word that Howon can think of to describe how he looks. Whether it’s that the fact that someone he tried to rob (and essentially asked to kill him) is helping him or because someone is trying to help him at all Howon couldn’t guess. 

 “Okay Kim Myungsoo,” Howon says, once Myungsoo has finished his examination “I have a proposal for you.”

 “What is it?” Myungsoo asks, looking almost hopeful.

 “I won’t kill you, and in exchange you help me get something back from Dongil that I really want.” Howon proposes. 

 “You want me to steal from him again?” Myungsoo asks hesitantly.

 “Not quite,” Howon says because his plan is slightly more complicated than that. “But here’s the deal. I won’t kill you whatever you decide,” He says. He doesn’t  _want_  to be a murderer anymore, that’s why he’d parted ways with Hyuna. 

 Myungsoo looks so totally floored at that, turning reverent eyes to Howon as if he’d promised him the sun instead of to not murder him. It makes Howon uncomfortable, “Really?” Myungsoo asks.

 “Really,” Howon nods, packing his first aid kit away methodically making sure everything is in the right place, “If you help me get back what I need I’ll help you get away from him.”

 “How?” Myungsoo asks, so eager he starts talking before Howon has finished.

 “Well, you can never go wrong with a good old faked death,” Howon says casually. 

 The smile that spreads across Myungsoo’s face is so bright and genuine Howon feels stunned by it. He hasn’t seen something - or met someone - so seemingly genuine in a long, long time, “Okay,” Myungsoo nods, sticking out a hand in an endearing way, “Deal. Let’s do it.”

 When Howon reaches out to shake the hand he can’t possibly imagine what’s going to follow.

 He’d never believe it even if he could imagine.

 Because Myungsoo? Myungsoo brings him back from the brink without ever trying. 

 

 

☁︎

 

Myungsoo had never, ever imagined that breaking into Hoya’s apartment would end in the way it does

He’s heard things about Hoya, everyone around these parts has heard of Hoya. 

His past is murky, to put it mildly. The rumour is he got kicked out of the South Korean military for something so horrible that they couldn’t stand to have him around but he knew too much they didn’t want to charge him. Then him and a mysterious female accomplice had become the most feared team of assassins across Asia. 

Myungsoo has no clue how many of the stories he heard were accurate (the one about forcing someone to drink water until they died of water intoxication was particularly gruesome), but you don’t get a reputation like that if it’s not deserved. 

It’s why as soon as Bang tells him that he needs to rob Hoya in order to repay his debts he knows he’s as good as dead. Knows that he’s being sent on a suicide mission, to be killed more sadistically than Bang could do himself. 

Myungsoo knows that there is nothing he can do to get out of this predicament. 

“So Myungsoo,” Bang says with a smirk, “What I’m asking of you is really quite simple. A man of your skills should be able to do it easy.”

Myungsoo doesn’t say anything from his position kneeling on the floor at his feet, staring at the floor.

 It’s a mistake because not two seconds later the guard behind him is yanking his head back by his hair, forcing him to look at Bang, “You would do well to respond,” the guard says coolly.

 “Yes,” Myungsoo says more defiantly than he feels. He’s already given up hope.

 “What do you say,” Bang says, reaching to run a finger down the side of Myungsoo’s face. It makes him feel dead inside, he hopes this Hoya guy kills him. He knows if he fails, he might do something worse than kill him.

 Myungsoo knows what he’s expected to say and he doesn’t want to say it. He does manage to force the words from his throat because the hand in his hair and on his face is a reminder of what could happen to him if he doesn’t. “Thank you for such a generous opportunity.”

 “You would do well to remember it,” he says, pushing Myungsoo’s face away before turning his back and walking away, “You have 24 hours.”

 Twenty-four hours to live.

 Except then he breaks into Hoya’s house. Breaks in when Bang promises that Hoya will be away from the place (Myungsoo is sure that’s a lie but what difference does it make).

 It  _is_  a lie and Hoya initially reacts exactly as Myungsoo had assumed he would, threatens him and pulls weapons on him. Except when he shoots at Myungsoo he misses. Misses and then lets him go free.

 Myungsoo breathes a sigh of relief. Until he realises this changes nothing, Bang is not going to be impressed that he escaped with his life but without his bounty.

He’s not wrong. Bang forces him to the floor again, and this time when he traces Myungsoo’s cheek bones it’s not with his fingers but with the blade of a knife. A knife still stained with someone else’s blood, tacky against his face.

 “You failed me Myungsoo,” he almost purrs, dangerous and repulsive, “I took pity on you, gave you a simple task and you couldn’t even complete that.”

 “Sorry,” Myungsoo spits, wanting nothing than to pull away. Maybe if he does, he’ll will be so enraged he’ll just kill him. 

 Or maybe he’ll be so enraged he does other, unspeakable things. Myungsoo doesn’t risk it because he doesn’t want to find out.

 “Because I’m generous, I’ll give you another chance,” Bang says, “It’s more than you deserve but I’m in a good mood today,”

 The blood on the knife says all that needs to be said about why he’s in such a ‘good mood’. 

 “Yes Sir,” Myungsoo says, skin crawling. He’ll say anything so he can leave and wipe the mysterious donor’s blood off his face. 

 He hopes Hoya kills him this time, because whatever he does can’t be worse than the fate awaiting him if he fails.

 

 

☁︎ 

 

 

He returns to Hoya expecting to die. (He’ll realise later he never actually leaves Hoya).  

Still when Myungsoo crawls back through those dusty vents, there’s a lot of things he gets that he’s not expecting. He’s not expecting the sharp pain of barbed wire digging into his hand, he’s not expecting the way Hoya looks at him like he’s seeing into his soul, he’s certainly not expecting the man he’s attempting to rob for the second time in a week to patch his wounds up.

He hasn’t had anyone care about his hurts since he was still a child. 

 Hoya could be playing with him. Taunting him by giving him hope only to cruelly pull it away and end his life - or worse send him back to Bang.

 Myungsoo finds he doesn’t care. Even if it’s fake, even if it’s a ruse, he likes the idea someone was kind to him before he died. 

 

Except Hoya doesn’t kill him. Instead, after Myungsoo agrees to help him he shepherds Myungsoo out of his room and into the kitchen, depositing Myungsoo at the breakfast bar before leaning against the fridge and turning to him.

 

“Are you hungry?” Hoya asks him.

 

Myungsoo is so spectacularly thrown off guard by the question that he can’t do anything except blink at Hoya. Until Hoya rolls his eyes in exasperation and Myungsoo snaps out of the moment; the last thing he wants to do is offend the deadly assassin who is being inexplicably nice to him (unless his plan is to cook Myungsoo poisoned food. Myungsoo thinks that is a more preferable death than whatever Bang has planned for him).

 “A little bit,” Myungsoo says, looking at the granite of the bench top. He’s more than a little hungry, he’s been so fucking exhausted and terrified he hasn’t eaten properly in days. He’s not going to admit to that.

 “Okay,” Hoya says looking at him appraisingly, before turning back to the fridge, “How does bibimbap sound?” He asks, even as he’s pulling ingredients out.

 “It sounds really good.” Myungsoo says honestly.

 Myungsoo watches Hoya cook, not missing that whilst might have his back turned to him, he’s still got a keen sense of awareness of every move Myungsoo makes, every time he fidgets on the chair. There’s a gun shoved into the pocket of his pants and Myungsoo can see at least six knives within Hoya’s reach (he could probably kill Myungsoo with the frying pan in his hands if he’d wanted to, although it would be a real shame something that smells so mouth-wateringly good).

 Myungsoo wasn’t planning on attacking him or anything, but if he was he would have been well and truly convinced otherwise. 

 Eventually Hoya puts a plate down in front of him (Myungsoo notices he’s not eating anything himself). Myungsoo picks at it cautiously before deciding poison is probably not the worst way to go and takes a bite.

 It’s tastes so good (and he’s 70% sure that’s not just the hunger talking) that he honestly wouldn’t care if it did poison him.

 Hoya waits until Myungsoo is eating before he asks, “Do you have somewhere you can go tonight, somewhere that Dongil can’t get to you?”

 Myungsoo quite obviously doesn’t, otherwise he would have been there instead of breaking into Hoya’s apartment and expecting death. He doesn’t want to tell Hoya this or be a further burden so he nods.

 Something in his face must give him away because Hoya leans over the counter top until he’s right up in Myungsoo’s face, “Let me get one thing straight Kim Myungsoo,” Hoya says so menacingly that Myungsoo is taken right back to the way he felt during that first break in, “If you want me to help you, then I only have one rule and that’s don’t fucking lie to me when I ask you a question.”

 Myungsoo nods so frantically he feels like his head is going to dislodge from his shoulders and roll onto the floor. “You don’t have to tell me the truth about you or your past, I couldn’t give a shit,” Hoya says, standing back now that he’s gotten his amusement out of terrifying Myungsoo, “But when I ask a question of you, then I expect honesty.”

 “Okay,” Myungsoo whispers, well and truly cowed. 

 Hoya nods in satisfaction before he repeats the question, “So, do you have somewhere safe you can go tonight?”

 “No,” Myungsoo tells him, honestly.

 “Okay.” Hoya says, tapping his fingers on the counter thoughtfully, “Here’s the thing, I don’t want to send you out there to get murdered by Dongil before you help me,” That’s reassuring, Myungsoo thinks sarcastically, “But I’m not sure I trust you enough to just leave you roaming my house whilst I sleep.” Then he tacks on the end sarcastically, “No offence.”

 “None taken,” Myungsoo says. This man has already gone so far out of his way to help Myungsoo, even if it is only for his own personal gain. Myungsoo wonders what his motive is. Wonders why he was so quick to offer Myungsoo help. Wonders if he’ll ever get answers

 “Usually, in a situation like this, I’d just handcuff you to the bedpost in the spare room or something, but getting out of handcuffs should be a piece of cake for you,” Hoya says, almost as if he’s brainstorming out loud. (He’s not wrong either, handcuffs were one of the earliest things he learned to pick the lock of - when he was seven, out of necessity). 

 Hoya’s looking at Myungsoo as if the answer is going to materialise on his forehead. When the silence stretches Myungsoo jokes, “Well I’m not going to offer a suggestion because you probably wouldn’t trust it.” 

 He’s not sure why he says it, sleep deprived mind getting away from his mouth, but the corner of Hoya’s mouth twitches in amusement so maybe it wasn’t the worst thing he could have said. 

 “I’ll lock you in the spare room tonight, I have some planning to do so I’m not going to sleep,” Hoya says eventually. 

 Myungsoo doesn’t bother point out that it’s almost morning. He’s so fucking exhausted that he could probably fall asleep on his feet in the full sun.

 “Thank you,” Myungsoo tells Hoya sincerely. He wonders if Hoya knows that even if he’s doing it because he’s getting something in return that this is the most kindness anyone has shown Myungsoo in a long time.  

 Hoya doesn’t say anything as he turns away from Myungsoo, but Myungsoo doesn’t think he has to.

 

 

☁︎

 

 

When Myungsoo wakes up the next evening, having slept most of the day away, he’s surprised to find Hoya sitting in the armchair in the corner of the bedroom.

Myungsoo would be creeped out that Hoya had apparently been watching Myungsoo sleep but the way his eyes are glued to the book in his hands would imply that he’s not been staring at Myungsoo. 

(It takes Myungsoo’s sleep addled brain few seconds to realise there’s a set of glasses perched on Hoya’s nose, a few seconds longer to process that he looks really, fucking attractive in them).

As if he can sense that he’s being stared at Hoya closes his book and looks up at Myungsoo, “Good evening.”  

“Hi,” Myungsoo croaks, voice heavy with sleep. He’s not dead, he realises belatedly. Maybe Hoya really, honestly, isn’t going to kill him. Myungsoo still can’t believe it, he could be alive in a month and he’s sure he’d still be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Hoya looks at him in a way that makes Myungsoo feel like Hoya doesn’t know what to  _do_  with him. That makes two of them. 

“How’s the plan coming along?” Myungsoo asks, because he is curious and he feels self-conscious lying in a bed that’s not his as a dangerous assassin stares at him in silence. He thinks anyone would feel the same.

“Good,” Hoya says, putting the book on the table next to him (it’s in English - Myungsoo realises with a start. That’s unexpected), “How soon are you up for putting it in motion?”

“Soon,” Myungsoo says straight away, “If I disappear and don’t come back or turn up dead soon Bang is going to come looking for me,” Myungsoo admits, twisting the bed sheets between his hands.

Part of his brain, the ever so small part that houses his common sense and self-preservation instincts (he’s been told so many times that he doesn’t have either of those things, just stupidity and recklessness in abundance in their place) tells him that it’s probably a bad idea to show Hoya how terrified and nervous he is.

Another part of him thinks that Hoya is more likely to help him as long as he doesn’t see him as a threat. He has to appear useful enough to be kept around but not so useful as to be a threat or a challenge to Hoya’s authority. 

“There are clothes in the closet: you can take whatever fits you, but get dressed” Hoya says, getting up from his chair with a dramatic flourish, “Tomorrow we’re going to rob the morgue.”, 

Myungsoo swallows, “Okay.” He says with a determined nod.  

“I hope you’re not squeamish,” Hoya throws over his shoulder before he leaves the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

Myungsoo lets out a sigh, relaxing slightly but not fully even now he’s alone.

“Let’s go rob a morgue Myungsoo, not at all something that makes us seem like insane creeps,” Myungsoo mutters under his breath as he climbs out of bed, wondering if maybe he’s just got himself tied up with an even crazier person than Bang.

That would be just his luck.

 

☁︎

 

 

Howon knows that he’s going to have to get some sleep sometime before he hits the morgue with Myungsoo, but for all the promises he’s made the kid he still can’t bring himself to sleep with him in the house unattended. 

He has an agreement with him but he still doesn’t trust Myungsoo, doesn’t know he hasn’t decided to bring Howon back to Dongil, wait till Howon is asleep and let them in. 

Howon knows there’s one person he needs to talk to if he wants to keep a thief contained and so once Myungsoo is in the bathroom he makes the call.

“What did you do?” Sungjong doesn’t bother greeting him when he picks up the phone.

“Why do you think I’ve done anything?” Howon asks in faux offence. He knows he’s been bad about keeping in contact with Sungjong recently. It’s to protect Sungjong, he keeps telling himself, but part of him knows that it’s his way of punishing himself. 

“You called me,” Sungjong says bluntly. 

“I need your advice,” Howon says. Years ago he hated asking Sungjong for advice, hated admitting he needed help from anyone younger than him. Now he’s grown enough to admit Sungjong’s the only one he trusts to be honest with him.

“There it is,” Sungjong laughs, not sounding offended. Sungjong understands him better than anyone could, “With what?” 

“How would you keep a thief out of a place you didn’t want them to go? Or rather, how would you keep them in a place you don’t want them to get out of?” Howon asks him ineloquently. 

“Hyung have you kidnapped a thief?” Sungjong asks him dryly, “Are you planning to kidnap  _me_?”

“No Jjong of course not,” Howon laughs, feeling the tension in his shoulders lift just from talking to Sungjong. He hates that he’s that reliant on another person, but if it’s going to be anyone he’s glad it’s Sungjong. 

“Well, I suppose drugging them would probably be your best option,” Sungjong says thoughtfully. Howon’s heart drops, “But of course that’s not an option you’re going to consider is it?” he asks softly. 

“No,” Howon says. He may not trust Myungsoo but Myungsoo doesn’t trust him either and drugging the kid is going to ensure he never trusts Howon, is going to make this job impossible to do. 

“Well,” Sungjong says, Howon can hear the tapping of his fingers in the background (he’s not sure if he can hear it or he’s imagining it because he  _knows_  that’s Sungjong’s habit when he thinks), “How good of a thief are we talking?” a pause, “And where do you want to keep him.”

“If his reputation is to be believed fucking phenomenal,” Howon says with a laugh. Of course Dongil was going to send one of the best after him, “And my apartment.”

Sungjong clicks his tongue, “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he says disapprovingly.

“Don’t I always,” Howon says as convincingly as he can manage.

It’s not very convincing, “Never,” Sungjong says with a sigh, “If you’re not prepared I’m not sure there’s much you can do with what you’ve got in your apartment.” That’s kind of what Howon was expecting. “Dare I ask why you’re trying to keep a thief in your apartment?” 

“I made a deal with him. I’m giving him shelter in exchange for a favour. I don’t trust him enough to sleep with him here,” Howon explains as briefly as he can. 

“Sleep somewhere else,” Sungjong points out like it’s the obvious answer. It’s an option Howon had considered but he’s not sure he trusts Myungsoo enough to leave him here unattended (part of him also feels responsible for Myungsoo and leaving him here in the first place Dongil’s men might look for him alone doesn’t sit right with him). “Take anything you don’t want him to get his hands on, and knowing you there’s nothing important there, and sleep in one of your other safe houses.” 

“I think that might be my best option,” Howon says slowly. It might sit wrong with him, but he’s can’t see another option. 

“Of course it is, I thought of it,” Sungjong says haughtily. Howon tries not to laugh. 

“Thanks for the advice Jongie,” He says with a sigh, picking at a loose thread in the ratty arm of his couch.

 “Always.” Sungjong says. Howon knows he means it, Sungjong takes pride in being able to solve problems Howon can’t (or won’t), “But you know you can call me not for advice right.” 

“I know,” Howon says swallowing uncomfortably. The shower goes off, “But I’ve got to go, don’t want to be overheard. I’ll call you later.”

“Sure, I’m excited to hear from you in a year,” Sungjong says sarcastically. Howon refuses to feel guilty, “Bye.”

“Bye,” Howon hangs up staring at his phone, listening to Myungsoo bustle around in the bathroom. He gives himself thirty seconds then he stands up. 

There are things to be done.

 

 

☁︎ 

 

 

Myungsoo understands why Hoya doesn’t want to sleep with him in his house, logically.  Understands the paranoia someone is out to get you - he supposes as an assassin it can only be worse.

It doesn’t stop him being slightly hurt at the lack of trust, as stupid as that sounds. Hoya owes him nothing, is already doing more to help him than Myungsoo could have ever dreamed of. 

He doesn’t sleep that evening whilst Hoya is away, terrified that Dongil is going to send someone else after Hoya, someone who will find Myungsoo here and kill him. Kill him or take him back; he’s not sure which he dreads more. 

He wants to look around, see if he can glean anything from the apartment. He doesn’t because that feels like overstepping a boundary. He doubts Hoya has left anything important here anyway. 

Instead he sits in the kitchen, knife block Hoya had threatened him with the other day close by. He knows if someone comes for him that he’ll be pretty useless - he’s a thief not a fighter - but if he goes down he wants to go down fighting. 

Time passes so slowly, excruciatingly slowly for Myungsoo, tension creeping up his spine as the night progresses.

Eventually, after what can only be years, the disposable cell phone that Hoya had given him starts to ring. It shocks him, brings his heart out of his chest into his throat as he scrambles to answer.

“Hello?” He breathes into it. He’s sure it can only be Hoya but still he waits to hear the voice.

“I’m coming back now,” Hoya tells him, tone clipped, “I just wanted to let you know so that you don’t think I’m trying to break in and do something rash.” 

“I wouldn’t,” Myungsoo can’t help protesting, even though he very much would have. It’s been two days and already Hoya can read him like a book it seems.

“Alright,” Hoya says, though he doesn’t sound particularly convinced, “As long as you don’t try and stab me when I walk through the door.”

 

Before Myungsoo has a chance to respond he hangs up. 

Even though he knows Hoya is coming back, Myungsoo can’t bring himself to move from the kitchen until he hears the front door open. 

“It’s me,” Hoya calls out quietly, the sound of the door slamming shut. Myungsoo doesn’t respond, lets Hoya find him in the kitchen. 

“Here,” Hoya says dropping a take-out bag in front of Myungsoo. He looks better rested now, even though Myungsoo watch tells him it’s been less than 5 hours since he left the apartment (though it had felt like 5 weeks). 

“Thank you,” Myungsoo says, opening the bag and ignoring the way Hoya eyes the knife block in amusement before putting it back in its previous place. 

Myungsoo’s not going to justify himself if Hoya isn’t going to mention it. 

“Eat, sleep, and then tonight we’ll hit the morgue,” Hoya says when he turns back around. It’s an order, but Myungsoo is so tired, is so  _exhausted_  that he doesn’t care. 

 

 

☁︎

 

It’s easier than Myungsoo thought it would be to steal a dead body from the morgue - Hoya and him are in and out within fifteen minutes. 

Perhaps it’s because no one is expecting a dead body to be stolen, perhaps it’s because in this part of Seoul no one would notice, one less John Doe to deal with for the exhausted coroners. Perhaps Hoya is just well practiced. 

Whatever the reason, Myungsoo can’t stop looking at the pile of blankets in the back of Hoya’s car under which the corpse is hidden.

Hoya doesn’t even look at it once the drive home. Never has Myungsoo been more aware than he is now just how dangerous Hoya is.

Once Hoya has managed to smuggle it back into his apartment building (Myungsoo has no idea how he did it - he sent Myungsoo up ahead and refused to let him see), Myungsoo is at a loss as to what they’re going to do now. 

“The plan is pretty simple,” Hoya says, depositing the dead body on a tarp he’s laid out on the living room floor like it’s no big deal that there’s a stolen corpse in the middle of his house (maybe corpses in his house are a common occurrence for him and it’s no big deal. Myungsoo would have thought assassins liked to keep their work and home lives separate but that might just be him).

“Make Bang think this is me,” Myungsoo says with a nod. That part is easy enough to follow along with, so simple that it could almost be considered cliché, but necessary.

Without a body there’s no way that he’s is going to just assume Myungsoo is dead and not search high and low for him. 

“Essentially,” Hoya says looking at Myungsoo appraisingly. Sure he’s looked at Myungsoo before (obviously) but this feels different. Like he’s sizing everything about Myungsoo up from his personality to his past.

“Any identifying marks we need to add to this guy?” Hoya asks, kicking the dead body with his foot. As if stealing a body isn’t bad enough, Myungsoo is pretty sure mutilating a corpse is illegal everywhere in the world, “Something he can use to identify you?”

Not that what he does isn’t illegal but this feels more wrong than stealing - maybe because the body had once been someone.

“I don’t think so?” Myungsoo says, wracking his brain. There is something he doesn’t think is relevant, but then he remembers Hoya made him promise to be honest “I mean, I have these scars on my back” his voice trails off as it always does when he thinks too hard about it, “But I don’t think any of them have ever seen them.”

Hoya is appraising for a few seconds before he says, “Do you mind showing me?”

 The fact he doesn’t demand that Myungsoo show him is the whole reason Myungsoo finds himself stripping his shirt off, and turning his back to Hoya. 

He holds his breath as he feels Hoya stepping towards him before there are cool fingers pressing into the scar. Myungsoo shivers, Hoya’s hands always feel so cold (he had a teacher - back when he still went to school who used to tell him ‘cold hands warm heart.’ He doesn’t know why that memory pops into his head at that moment but it does).

“Okay,” Hoya says, thankfully not asking how Myungsoo got them. If he did Myungsoo would have to tell him because he’s made the decision he will be honest with Hoya, it’s the least he can do. 

Hoya returns his attention to the corpse, crouching down beside it. 

“I need to make this body beyond recognition,” Hoya says, looking up at Myungsoo with some of the saddest and loneliest eyes he has ever seen, “You don’t want to be here for this.”

Myungsoo mulls it over in his head before he sits opposite Hoya, “You’re doing this to save me. You don’t have to, but you are.” Myungsoo says determinedly, “the least I can do is stay.”

Hoya looks at him in wonder for a fraction of a second before the emotion drains from his face entirely. That brief flicker of emotion though tells Myungsoo he’s making the right decision.

Even if he does eventually lose his lunch.

 

☁︎

 

Howon stands back to survey his handy work, proud of his efforts. He’s not going to admit how much he’s enjoying this; the first challenge he’s had in a long time. 

Myungsoo is sitting huddled on the floor, mottled purple painting the skin around his eyes and stark red smeared across his face. He’s cradling his arm in his lap and Howon has to admit he paints a pathetic picture.

“Okay,” he says, giving the body a kick, “The last thing we need to decide is what we’re going for.”

“Excuse me?” Myungsoo asks quietly. He’s been quiet for the last hour, ever since he’d had to rush off to the toilet when Hoya was making a job of the corpses face. He’d lasted longer than Howon had expected. 

“I need to do something to you and leave a corresponding mark on the corpse,” Howon says. He wants to kick the body again, a nervous tick of his, but he’s seen the way Myungsoo flinches when he does so he refrains. 

“Like what?” Myungsoo asks curiously, uncurling out of himself just a little. 

“It would be easiest to fake a broken bone, an arm or a foot or something,” Howon says consideringly. Broken arms are a little bit tame for his usual style but it will have to do, he’s not actually going to remove Myungsoo’s fingernails or anything equally as drastic.

“Oh, okay,” Myungsoo nods in understanding.

“Any preference?” Howon asks him. He’s joking, mostly. He doesn’t think Myungsoo will have any sort of preference and some things are easier to fake than others.

“What would you normally do?” Myungsoo asks him, moving his body slightly so he can face Howon. Howon isn’t actually going to tell him that, he won’t want to hear it. 

“Well,” Howon says thoughtfully, “I’m going to mark his arm so I think a broken arm will do nicely.” A broken arm will also be easier for him to fake without actually hurting Myungsoo - he needs him in the best condition possible for the rest of the plan.

“What do you mean mark the arm?” Myungsoo asks him with a frown.

“I mean mark his arm. Carve an identifying mark into it to send a message,” Howon explains. It had been Hyuna’s idea to start with, something of a signature. Both a warning and a touch of hubris: the assassin unafraid to sign his kills. Not something he’s particularly proud of but it would work well as a taunt in this particular instance. 

“Do that to me,” Myungsoo says squaring his shoulders.

“I don’t need to mutilate your body Myungsoo,” Howon says. It’s entirely unnecessary.  

“It’ll look more convincing if you do though, right?” Myungsoo asks, leaning forward. There’s a glint of determination in his eye that has never been present before, though it’s so familiar to Howon that it aches. 

“Probably,” Howon says. He asked for honesty from Myungsoo, so the least he can do is try and give the same in return, “But I don’t want to injure you. Not when there are other things for you to do.” 

He’s giving Myungsoo an out. He wants Myungsoo to take it for some reason, a reason beyond his explanation. 

“It’s fine. A cut on my arm won’t slow me down,” Myungsoo says dismissively. He sounds resolute but the way he’s tapping his fingers on the inside of his wrist indicates he’s not as confident as he’s pretending to be.

“It’s not just a cut Myungsoo. I’m going to carve your arm and it’ll probably scar. You’ll have a permanent reminder of this for the rest of your  _life_.” Myungsoo is right in the fact it will go a long way towards convincing Dongil if they do this. 

For all his bluster Howon has never actually had to fake a death before - he always got the right target. He’s being overly cautious, covering his bases more than Dongil will ever check but he needs to get this right. Better to overdo it than under do it. 

“I can do it. It’s the least I can do.” Myungsoo says. 

Howon gets the feeling they could be here arguing about it all night so he might as well give in. If Myungsoo wants to mutilate his own body, then Howon can’t stop him.

 “Alright, go grab the first aid kit from the bathroom,” Howon says. If he’s going to mark Myungsoo he supposes he should clean or disinfect his knife - it’s something he’s never thought of before; infection has never been a problem in previous cases. Usually he’d go for the inside of the wrist but the risk of hitting an artery is too high so the back will have to do. 

Myungsoo scurries off as he’s told overly eager to follow every direction Howon gives him, probably for fear Howon is going to go back on his word. As he does that Howon sets about setting up the video camera, sitting a single chair in the middle of the room. 

When Myungsoo returns, Howon makes quick work of cleaning his knife. He looks at Myungsoo raking his eyes over him appraisingly before reaching up to ruffle his hair a little and rip a hole in the neck of his t-shirt. 

“Okay, I think you’re good,” he says softly. Myungsoo manages a nervous nod before heading for the chair. 

“Well kid,” Howon laughs, taking one last look around to make sure there is nothing in the shot they don’t want there, such as the corpse “I hope you’re a better actor than you are thief.”

 “I just have one question,” Myungsoo says as he gingerly sits himself down. Howon raises an eyebrow to encourage him to ask, “What  _is_  your mark?”

 

 

 

☁︎

 

 

Myungsoo can’t help but hiss in pain just a little as Hoya wipes the disinfectant over the newly carved mark on his arm. He’s glad for Hoya’s strong grip on his arm because he knows without it he’d be yanking his hand away. Knowing what to expect this time hadn’t made it hurt any less.  

“Sit still,” Hoya chides him leaving Myungsoo feeling oddly like he’s been scolded by a teacher.

“Sorry, it stings,” he explains, even though Hoya must know that. He distracts himself by observing the mark - the letter H and a crudely drawn flower that Myungsoo can’t identify. 

“It will sting more if it gets infected,” Hoya tells him matter of factly as he starts wrapping the wrist in a bandage of some kind with firm efficiency. Myungsoo wonders why an assassin would have any need for first aid knowledge, though maybe even Hoya got injured in the line of work sometimes. 

Myungsoo doesn’t reply to that, just brings his arm into his chest once Hoya releases it.

“What now?” He asks. Of course he knows the general outline of the plan but he needs to know what he can do now, to distract himself from the stinging in his wrist. If he concentrates on it he thinks he can feel the sting creeping up his arm towards his chest. He doesn’t concentrate on it.

“I’m going to need your clothes for one,” Hoya says packing up his first aid kit with brisk efficiency, “You can borrow some of mine.”

“Okay,” Myungsoo nods. It makes sense of course, that the dead body is going to have to wear the same clothes that he did in the video.  

“Then, I want you to go wash that mess off your face and put the video onto a thumb drive - I’m sure Hyuna left one around here somewhere,” Hoya says shoving the first aid container into Myungsoo’s arms, “Just take whatever you want from my closet, I don’t care.”

Hoya has already turned back to the body, and Myungsoo really isn’t ready to see what he plans to do with it now so he leaves the room to grab the first thing he can find out of Hoya’s wardrobe. They’re not the same size so the sweatpants are short on his legs and the shirt hangs off his shoulders something terrible but he doesn’t care.  

He ducks back into the living room to fling his clothes at Hoya before he’s in the bathroom, staring at his face in the mirror. Hoya hadn’t been half bad with the make-up, the bruises and blood on his face are strikingly realistic. Familiar. He stares at himself a few minutes longer, feeling more himself than he has in days, before he washes them off quickly and efficiently.  

“Where’s your computer?” Myungsoo calls out to Hoya as he steps out of the bathroom. 

“Bedroom,” Hoya calls back, “I left the camera on the desk.”

Myungsoo lets out a sigh of relief, he was afraid he was going to have to go back into the room to retrieve it. He doesn’t want to see what he’s sure Hoya is doing to the corpse.

 Instead he sits at the desk and downloads the footage, taking a couple of minutes to look over it and make sure there’s nothing too obviously fake in there. There’s not, the very real yell of pain he lets out when Hoya carves into his skin burns into his brain, makes his wrist ache.

He doesn’t regret agreeing to it for a second. 

Once he’s satisfied with the way it’s cut he renders it and riffles through the desk draws for a USB to put it on. All up it takes him less than twenty minutes, before he has to hesitantly return to the living room.

In the time that he’s been away Hoya has changed the corpse into his clothes, the face smashed beyond recognition and a mark to match Myungsoo’s carved into his wrist. 

He has to look away, the entire thing too eerie for him. Something of a reminder what his fate was so close to being.

Instead he looks to where Hoya is sitting at the table calmly writing a letter, “Apartment or car?” Hoya asks him without looking up.

“What?” Myungsoo asks, walking over to his side slowly. Even though Hoya has been nothing but patient with him he’s still incredibly wary of the man. This whole exercise has done nothing to reassure him, in fact it’s made Hoya even more intimidating.

“The body, are we setting it up for discovery here or in a car?” Hoya asks him, irritation creeping into his voice. Myungsoo supposes he should have been able to guess that.

“A car,” Myungsoo says without thought. Hoya has neighbours here and there’s no way they can control a fire set in the apartment.

“I thought you’d say that,” Hoya says with a wry smile, folding his letter over, “That’s going to be harder. We need to make sure there is absolutely no trace of you in here.”

“Won’t they just assume any trace of me is because you, you know murdered me here?” Myungsoo can’t help asking argumentatively. 

Hoya lets out a sound that could possibly be a laugh, “I suppose that’s true. Check the bedroom and bathroom anyway. And do you have the USB drive?”

Myungsoo hands it over wordlessly, watching as Hoya puts the letter and the USB into an envelope. He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket, throwing them in as well before sealing it.

Myungsoo absently wonders how many cars he has - how often he’s left a corpse in the trunk of a car to be discovered. 

It’s something he pointedly doesn’t think about as he scrubs every trace of himself out of the living space of the apartment, as the two of them get the body into the trunk of yet another car without anyone noticing. 

He doesn’t think about it when they park the car in a run-down carpark. When Hoya douses the car in gasoline. 

“Do you want to do the honours?” Hoya asks him, holding out a cigarette lighter towards him.

Myungsoo hesitates. Does he want to do this; does he want to take an active part in this situation. Does he want to cross this line, what feels like a point of no return.

He reaches out to take the silver Zippo from Hoya. And when he throws it on the car, watches side by side with Hoya as the flames consume the vehicle it feels like an important moment.

 

It feels like a new beginning. 

 

 

☀︎

 

Kim Myungsoo has an inability to sit still. 

It had taken Howon less than a day to figure that out about him but knowing doesn’t make it any less irritating. 

Irritating and a liability. Any movement no matter how small creates noise and noise increases the chance of someone noticing them when they don’t want to be noticed.

Myungsoo is jumpy though. Anything he perceives as a criticism is probably going to throw him off his game which they can’t afford, not when they’re so close to the climax of this plan. He resolves to keep an eye on Myungsoo, make sure his movements don’t get any bigger.

To his credit they don’t; Howon has to keep reminding himself this kid has gained a reputation that implies he cannot be as flighty or impulsive as he comes across. 

He’s smart, Howon will give him that.

“How long?” Howon doesn’t jump as Myungsoo sidles up behind him, voice pitched low.

Howon doesn’t need to glance at his watch to answer that, “Ten minutes.”

 He’d timed his run carefully, bumping into the mail courier and dropping their letter into his bag of deliveries three blocks back. 

 It had been a risk, showing his face this close to Dongil’s home but it was a risk that he’d weighed carefully. Sending the letter through the mail will infuriate him, and the angrier he is the better for them.

 Of course Howon is also never going to pass taking an opportunity to get one over him either.

 Myungsoo sighs, stepping away from Howon and continuing the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on his thigh which seems to be the most common outlet for his restless energy. 

 The two of them are situated two houses down from Dongil’s property. The house is empty, its owners on a cruise to Japan at the moment. It had been laughably easy to disable the alarm and let themselves in, the view from the upstairs bathroom allowing them to see the coming and goings at the house. Not perfectly, but any closer the risks would outweigh any advantage. 

 As Howon predicted it’s ten minutes and twelve seconds after Myungsoo asks him the question that the mail man arrives, slipping the mail in the letter box and moving on.

 Not five minutes later one of the goons comes out of the house to retrieve the mail. Myungsoo comes to stand next to him, their shoulders brushing as they watch. Howon knows Myungsoo has done it on purpose but he doesn’t step away. 

 “How many do you think he’ll send?” Myungsoo asks. Howon gets the feeling he’s asking to fill the silence but he’ll indulge him. They’re alone after all.

 “A lot. Not all of them but he’s arrogant. He thinks his security system will protect him,” Howon says quietly. He’s probably not expecting Howon to come to him, and if he’s calculated correctly he’ll be so indignant his rage will blind him to the possibility of a distraction. 

 “He didn’t count on me,” Myungsoo says with a confident smile.

 Howon could point out that Myungsoo’s last attempt at robbing Dongil clearly wasn’t very successful. He doesn’t, because from what he can understand getting in and out wasn’t Myungsoo’s problem. It was remaining unidentified. 

 “That he didn’t,” Howon says with a small smile. He takes a great deal of satisfaction in the fact his attempts to take him out backfired on him though sadly the plan dictates that he’ll never know himself. He’ll still think he was victorious getting rid of Myungsoo.

 They wait for a few minutes more, silence falling again before there’s a flurry of activity, an a convey of cars speed out of the driveway, Dongil clearly visible in the passenger seat of the first car.

 “He looks mad,” Myungsoo giggles; he seems lighter now that he’s as good as dead. Howon has to agree, which is good. Things are going according to plan.

 “We’ll give it ten minutes, enough time to avoid any surprises but not enough for there to be any chance of them coming back,” Howon explains, even though they’ve been over this part of the plan before.

 Myungsoo doesn’t comment on it, just nods and they continue to wait.

 Once the ten minutes have passed, the two of them slip out of the house and across the backyard of the neighbouring house until they’re at the back of Dongil’s property.

 “I think they’ll have fixed the security flaw I exploited last time,” Myungsoo says, rolling his neck in what appears to be a nervous habit, “But there were three or four that I could have chosen from and I don’t think they’ll have fixed the others.” 

 The way he grins at Howon is something he hasn’t seen from him as of yet. Howon can see Myungsoo become the infamous thief in front of his eyes, back straight, newly obtained clothes close fitting and dark, determination painted across his face.

 He tries not to smile, “Alright then, show me what you can do,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.

 “Yes boss,” Myungsoo salutes him cheekily before slipping round the other side of the house. Howon steps back into the garden, hiding himself from view in the house behind a tall (and ugly) sculpture of some kind.

 He waits, counting the seconds in his head. He estimates it’ll take Myungsoo ten minutes.

He’s underestimated Myungsoo, six minutes later the back door swing opens and Myungsoo waves him forward with a grin, “Let’s go then, time’s a-wasting,” he calls out quietly but cheekily once Howon is closer.

 Howon takes pleasure in slapping him lightly on the head before walking into the house before he focuses. This is the moment that matters.

 This is the moment he discovers if Myungsoo has betrayed him or not. This is the culmination of the plan, his one chance to get his well-deserved revenge

 

He’s not going to let it fuck up.

 

 

☀︎ 

 

 

Not for the first time Myungsoo wonders what could be so important to Hoya that he’s risking breaking into Bang Dongil’s house just to steal it back from him.

Of course there’s no way he’s going to ask Hoya; he saved Myungsoo’s life so he owes him nothing - certainly not an explanation about something he clearly doesn’t want to elaborate on.

Instead Myungsoo just watches in awe as Hoya takes out the four guards that have been left behind at the house in a quick and efficient way. If Myungsoo had thought his own display of his skills might have impressed Hoya he has no such illusions anymore.

He’s not being particularly helpful at the moment he knows, standing back and letting Hoya search - occasionally cracking the lock on a safe when he’s asked. The thing is he’s not sure how to contribute. He’s not sure that Hoya actually needed him here. 

He doesn’t know how that makes him feel; glad because Hoya helped him even though he could have done this alone or useless like a child humoured by his older brother with meaningless busy tasks.

As if Hoya can hear his thoughts he turns to Myungsoo, “I have a job for you.” 

“I see,” Myungsoo raises an eyebrow, waiting to see if it’s important or he’s been thrown another bone. 

“Here,” Hoya throws a small bag at him which he manages to catch (if fumbling it into his chest counts as catching - he doesn’t drop it so he’d say it does). 

“What’s this?” Myungsoo asks curiously, pulling the drawstrings and peering inside.

“Bugs,” Hoya tells him with a wicked smile, “I figured, whilst we’re here we might as well have some fun.”

Myungsoo can’t help but grin at that. Even if it is busy work he’s being given he can’t complain, already thinking about getting to listen to his rage when he realises that Hoya has tricked him. 

“Every room do you think?” Myungsoo asks, already planning where he can hide them so they won’t be spotted straight away.

“Yes,” Hoya says with a nod, turning back to his searching, “I have a little camera for his office as well.”

 “I like the way you think,” Myungsoo smiles before he’s off. It takes him half an hour to get every room in the house covered, trying his hardest not to pay attention to the guards on the floor (He doesn’t know if Hoya’s killed them or not but he  _does_  know if they’re still alive but have been unconscious for this long they’re going to have serious brain damage).

 When he returns to the study Hoya is just putting the lid on a wooden box, looking more pleased than Myungsoo has seen him.

 “Done?” He asks Myungsoo without looking up.

 “Done,” Myungsoo confirms with a nod. 

 “Well then,” Hoya meets his eye, “I’d say job well done. Let’s get out of here.” Then, completely unexpectedly he sticks his closed fist up for a fist bump

 Myungsoo laughs, he can’t help himself, because the gesture is so ridiculous.

 It’s ridiculous and he’s finally free.

 

 

☀︎

 

 

Myungsoo had known it was silly, to believe that anything would change after he managed to get away from Dongil. For so long he hadn’t  _expected_  to get away from him, for a month now he’s lived his life expecting every hour to be his last.

Maybe not alive, but there are worse things than death. Than the inevitable loss of dignity. 

 It’s something he doesn’t have to think about now, he hopes.

From everything he’s seen doesn’t think Hoya is going to kill him now. Doesn't expect any  _repayment_ from him.

As the two of them sit in the bathtub of the house they’ve commandeered to keep an eye on Dongil he realises he doesn’t feel any different. Things have changed, but they haven’t made him feel any better. Any different. 

“When’s he getting back, do you think?” Myungsoo asks, just to fill the silence that’s creeping into his mind. He’s quickly learned Hoya never says anything unless it’s absolutely necessary. 

 “Soon, I’d say,” Hoya says, balancing his phone on his knee. The camera he’s planted in the office (and presumably the bugs as well) is linked to his phone or so he says, “Five or ten minutes.”

Myungsoo is starting to think Hoya has some sort of powers (or more bugs than he’s let on) because less than ten minutes later by Myungsoo’s estimation the parade of cars come back.

Hoya grins and opens an app of some kind on his phone. Immediately Dongil’s voice rings across the room. “Who does that fucker think he is?” He’s yelling, Myungsoo fights the urge to smile, “Calling the police on me. Me. Like I can’t get him thrown in jail for the rest of his miserable life with a snap of my fingers.”

“Did you?” Myungsoo whispers to Hoya. As far as he was aware that hadn’t been part of the plan.

 “I thought he might want some company,” Hoya quips with a self-satisfied smile. 

 “No one was going to arrest you, boss,” one of the henchmen (as Myungsoo has taken to calling them in his head) says. 

 "It’s the principle. That snot nosed little fuck face thought he could call the police on me. The nerve.”Dongil says sounding certain. How he knows Hoya called and no one simply reported the burning car to the police he doesn’t know. 

 “At least Kim Myungsoo is out of your hair,” Another less snivelling sounding henchman says. They’re not in the study yet, which is a shame, Myungsoo is quite looking forward to seeing how livid the man is.

 “True. Although I would have liked to put him in his place first,” Dongil says with an evil little laugh. Myungsoo shudders, suddenly finding the situation a lot less funny than it was seconds ago.

 Hoya glances at him out of the corner of his eye, the implication clearly not lost on him at all. He doesn’t say anything though and Myungsoo can’t decide if that’s a relief or a disappointment.

 “We can only hope Hoya did it for you,” the smooth sounding voice says again. Hoya rearranges himself, arm bumping against Myungsoo’s gently.

 “It’s not his style.” Dongil sounds pleased about that “I don’t want him having what I can’t, especially after that stunt he pulled on me.”

  Myungsoo presses his lips together and tries not to think about it. They’re getting closer to the study, he can tell, which means hopefully they’ll stop talking about him soon.

 “That’s one less thorn in your side, regardless,” Myungsoo thinks he’s probably imagining it but this henchman sounds slightly putt off by the tone of the conversation.

 “True, and it’s only a matter of time before I pin Hoya for this, especially with the evidence he so helpfully sent to us,” Dongil is back to sounding smug now, which sucks. Myungsoo much preferred the raging.

He also hadn’t thought of it that way. Did Hoya risk himself to help Myungsoo? As if hearing his thoughts Hoya shakes his head, “If the police ever catch up with me they’ve got more than enough evidence to bury me for life,” he explains. Myungsoo was stupid and vain to think Hoya would do it for him he supposes.

“I pity whichever police officer catches up with you,” Myungsoo tells him honestly, taking pleasure in the laugh that startles from Hoya.  

Hoya’s saved from responding by a yell that sounds almost like a roar. The two of them exchange looks before looking to the phone screen to see Dongil staring at the safe, swinging open in the wall.

Myungsoo had wondered why Hoya hadn’t even tried to hide the fact that he’d stolen what he was after. When he’d asked, Hoya had explained it prevented Dongil from questioning why Hoya was so public with his ‘murder’ and wouldn’t look any further into it. 

Judging by the way Hoya is smiling into his hand right now it was also for his own amusement.  

They sit together and watch as Dongil absolutely loses his shit. He screams and yells and trashes his desk. He threatens to fire all his henchmen and punches one in the face all the while yelling violent but not particularly creative threats.

Despite this all, Myungsoo doesn’t find him in the slightest bit intimidating. Maybe it’s because of his relief, or because Hoya scares him so much more in a quiet way. Whatever the reason he just thinks Dongil is pathetic as he essentially throws a temper tantrum.  

“What now?” Myungsoo asks, when it becomes clear the bugs are going to offer no further entertainment; there’s only so long you can listen to someone threaten murder (and not even creatively).

He doesn’t know why he asks Hoya. This is the end of the line. The end of their alliance. 

 “I promised you I’d help you get out of Korea, remember?” Hoya tells him quietly, “And I always keep my word.”

Myungsoo doesn’t actually remember the promise extending that far - he was sure that Hoya just said he’d help him get away which faking his death certainly had done.

He’s not going to argue about it though because he has a feeling Hoya has already covered all the details of a plan so much more reliable than anything Myungsoo could have come up with. 

He’s not sure what having someone be kind you feels like in practice but he imagines it must be something like this. 

“Okay, how?” Myungsoo asks, as Hoya balances the phone on the end of the bathtub.

“Plane tickets and a false identity can take you many places,” Hoya tells him as if he’s imparting a great secret.

Myungsoo sighs, “I don’t have a fake identity,” he says. Fake identities require contacts, require planning and effort and knowing the right people.

“You do now,” Hoya says, removing something from his pocket and handing it to Myungsoo with a flourish. He’s starting to realise that Hoya isn’t quite as restrained as he comes across, but the thought enters his mind and flits away as he looks down at the passport in his hands.

It’s his face staring back at him from the photo (and how on earth had Hoya managed to get his hands on  _that_ ) but nothings else is the same. His name, his age, even his birthplace. All lies.

“How?” Myungsoo asks, looking up at Hoya hoping he doesn’t look as awed as he feels (he probably does. That probably feeds Hoya’s ego). 

“I know a guy who happened to owe me a favour,” Hoya says with a shrug, like it’s that easy.

“Where will I go?” He asks Hoya.

“I thought we could try France,” Hoya says handing another piece of paper over to him; a plane ticket.  

Myungsoo tries not to get stuck on the word we, he really does but he fails. It’s such a small word but it means so much. 

“I, thank you,” Myungsoo says because he doesn’t know what else to say. Doesn’t know what else to do.

Hoya shrugs, “We had a deal. I’m following through on my end,” like it’s as simple as that. 

Myungsoo feels like no part of this exchange has been a fair deal - like Hoya has done twice as much to help him as he has to help Hoya. 

Myungsoo makes a silent promise to himself then that he’s going to do something to make it up to Hoya. To pay him back. Anything.

Because as much as Myungsoo hates being indebted to anyone that’s what he is. Indebted to Hoya.

Tied to him in a way that’s not all together pleasant.

(He doesn’t realise how apt that description is - or that he’ll only get more tangled up in Hoya. Tangled up and never wanting to be freed).

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory visit me at [tumblr](http://infiniteleverage.tumblr.com/) link xD


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